Not Like Us
by poeticgrace
Summary: Puck, Rachel and Quinn find themselves in an old familiar place after Finn's funeral. Complete.
1. The Bleachers

It's only fitting that they ended up in the bleachers.

He hasn't talked to her since the funeral. Hell, he hasn't really talked to her in two years. She'd been up there in the front row just like him, tucked neatly between Mr. Hummel and Kurt, making all the right noises to let everyone know that she was a properly grieving girl. He had been quiet, seemingly cold and stoic, on the right of Carole, holding her hand tightly just like he knew that Finn would've been up there with Ma if the situation were reversed.

Puck looks down at her and he swears that it's sophomore year all over. Only this time, rather than knee socks and one of her stupid striped cardigans, this version of Rachel is wearing a little black dress that screams expensive and New York and everything that Puck's not. Her eyes are dull, her smile stunted. He hates how she's looking at him, _through_ him, as if she understands anything about the way he feels.

"I thought you might be here."

He rolls his eyes before sliding his gaze back out to the empty football field. A million memories rush through his brain all at once and he has to look away. Somewhere in the background, he can hear the incessant hum of her rattling on and on about what's happened, what's happening, what's going to happen. He doesn't care enough to pay attention to any of it. He just wants her to go away. She's acting like this is happening to only her, has been since Kurt got the call back in New York and Santana had put both of them on the first plane back to Ohio. They hadn't been there when he'd gone with the police to tell Carole and Burt. None of them had.

"You're so fuckin' selfish, Berry."

"Excuse me?" she gasped incredulously.

She had thought, stupidly, that he'd understand out of everyone. What she didn't count on was that Puck held everything against her, against Quinn and Santana and all the others who had ever made Finn feel like he was anything less than the fucking star that Puck had always known he was.

"You're not the only one this is happening to, you know? You walk around, crying like he was still yours or something, but he wasn't. He hadn't been for a whole year," he spat angrily. He knew somewhere in his mind that she didn't really deserve how he was treating her. It wasn't the way Finn would want him to be. But he's just so mad at her for not being there – for Finn and for him. "Carole lost her son, Kurt lost his brother. They were his family. This should be about them, not you."

"Oh, Noah," she exhaled softly. She noticed for the first time the red satin he was clenching in his lap. Kurt had his lettermen jacket, Rachel had taken the red tee he'd worn during that first big Journey performance. It only made sense that Puck had that piece of him. "I'm sorry."

His eyes flew to her, the hazel so full of fire. He'd only met her eyes once at the church, and the haunting look had reminded her so much of the lost one he had given her at the hospital the night that Beth was born. They'd all been so tangled up then, her and Noah and Quinn and Finn. It felt like a million years ago and yesterday in the same breath. Rachel sort of wished the blonde was there with them now but knew it was better that she wasn't. She wouldn't have really understood anyways, not the way she knew that Noah did.

"What are you apologizing to me for?"

Rachel played with the hem of her skirt for a moment. "You know, Finn once told me about this conversation he had with Burt after he married Carole. They were talking about how both Finn and Kurt had always been only children when Carole walked in. She had looked at Burt as if he were crazy, it always made Finn laugh," she remembered.

"Does this story have a point?" he asked rhetorically, angrily.

"And you know what Carole said? She told Burt that she'd always had two sons and that Finn had had a brother since the second day of first grade when you threatened the school bully for picking on him," she pressed on. She exchanged a knowing grin with Noah. He slid so easily into that smirk, the one that he used whenever he was professing himself a proud badass. "The two of you were always so connected in a way that I could never understand. He could forgive you anything. It might take some time, but he always came around when it came to you. Finn was an amazing guy, but he wasn't like that with anyone else. He gave a part of himself that no one else got."

Puck ran his thumb over the white number on the jersey splayed over his lap. "Finn was there the night my dad left. He'd never seen me cry before, but Ma was on the kitchen floor, just sobbing while she held onto Sarah," he murmured softly, looking out in the distance to keep the stinging wetness in his eyes at bay. "I knew I had to step up, be the man of the house, but Finn just let me be a kid. For five minutes, standing up in my bedroom, he put his arms around me and let me cry like a baby. He never made fun of me for it, never told a single soul. He just loved me, and I never forgot that."

Rachel slid gracefully to the next row so that there was only a single bench between them. "He never did either," she assured him. "Even after everything that happened, he didn't give up on you. He believed in you and you believed in him. Yeah, you two might have had these passive aggressive jokes that I still don't quite comprehend, but you got past everything. He used to write me these long, rambling emails last spring about how much he was loving college and how proud he was of you for writing your screenplay and how great it was to be going through all of that with you. Sometimes I'd think that maybe that's why he and I didn't work out, why he didn't make it in the Army. Maybe you guys were supposed to have these past few months…"

"But I wasn't his brother, Kurt was."

She smiled a little at this. "I suppose that's true in a way," she admitted, "but Finn didn't choose that. He didn't ask for his mom to fall in love with Burt, for the two of them to get married and turn them all into a family. Those things just happened to him. But Finn chose you, Noah. He picked you as his best friend. He decided to forgive you, to keep you in his life. So Finn might have inherited Kurt as a brother but he chose to have you in his life."

There's a small but content smile that passes over his face. "Yeah, I guess that's true," he accepted before looking skyward. Rachel knew that he was having a silent conversation in that confusing head of his with Finn. She had always admired the way the two boys had been together, the unyielding loyalty that shifted over the years but went away. She had never had a best friend like that, and she was starting to suspect that friendships like that didn't come along every day. "So shouldn't I, like, be comforting you or something?"

Rachel giggled and shook her head a little at his sudden abruptness. No one had ever accused him of being tactful. "I honestly don't know what we're supposed to be doing, Noah."

"The Hummels are having everyone back at their house. Carole made her chocolate cake. It's really good cake," he smiled. It was Finn's favorite, his too. "We could go back there, see how everyone else is doing. Blaine could probably use your help with Kurt right about now. The guy's a mess."

"Not like us," Rachel teased as she stood up and followed him down the metal stairs, her heels clicking loudly.

"Not like us," he confirmed as he reached his hand out to help her back onto flat ground. He held it there for a moment, the two of them exchanging a long look, before he pulled her into a hug. She felt so tiny against his solid chest. It only took a moment for her to start shaking, and if he started crying into her dark hair, well, she was nice enough not to point it out. When they finally separated a few minutes later, he brushed the tears away from her pretty face with his thumb. "Not like us at all."


	2. The Tattoo

"We're on our way over, there's something we want you to do with us."

There was a time a few years ago, hell, even a few weeks ago, where Puck would have taken that entirely different. Hearing an offer like that from two girls like Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray was pretty much a guy's dream come true. But things are different and he's alone in this stupid dorm room and Puck doesn't seem to have too many dreams these days.

It had been a month since the funeral, a month and three days since his best friend took his last breath. The dorm room was still full of memories of Finn, everything left untouched after Carole told the college she didn't want a refund on his room and board. She wanted Puck to have these things, if only for a little while, because they seemed to help him. They helped her too whenever she came by to check on him, sitting on the edge of Finn's bed holding some discarded sweatshirt Puck had found on the floor.

He's just shoving his legs into a somewhat clean pair of jeans when the girls knock on his door. He lets them in without a word, collapsing on Finn's bed and forcing them to take the desk chair or his mattress. He only lets Carole sit there; she's the only one he had even allowed in there until now. He's itching to get them out as soon as they're sitting there, staring at him awkwardly like they're all strangers. He supposes that they mostly are. They haven't really been friends since graduation.

"So, uh, did you guys want something or what?"

Rachel recoiled slightly at his harsh tone. They had been okay at the funeral but Puck had refused to talk to her – to any of them except to check on Kurt – since they had left the Hummels' house. "Quinn and I were talking about how we could remember Finn. We felt like we needed to do something."

"I'm not singing some stupid song," he bit out. That had always been Berry's go-to move. "And I don't want to start some sad foundation or build a dumb monument."

"Puck, it's nothing like that," Quinn shot back automatically. Unlike Rachel's quiet patience, Quinn was just as angry and broken as he was. There was so much bad between them, between all of them, and not having Finn there to balance it all out was really hard. "Rachel thought you might want to go with us to get tattoos. Nothing big, just a little symbol."

"We can't," he said pointedly, looking over at Rachel. "You know we can't be buried in a Jewish …" His voice trailed off as he considered what he was saying. He wouldn't care where his body laid if he was dead. Maybe they could bury him next to Finn or something, brothers in life and in death. He'd think it sounded a little, well, gay if he actually said that out loud. Instead, he just shrugged. "Fine, whatever, what did you have in mind? Nothing girly, the Puckerone is still a certified badass."

Rachel snorted despite the prettiest little smile on her face. "We were thinking an infinity symbol, just a tiny one, on our wrist. You could put yours somewhere else if you want. And his initials, just below the center crux."

He would have typically opted for something a little more prominent, bolder, but he somehow liked the idea of having it there on his wrist. It was somewhere he'd be able to see it, to have a constant reminder even when he really didn't need one. He'd be able to press it over his heart and maybe feel his best friend there. It sounded like something Finn would like, something he'd probably do himself if he was in Puck's shoes.

"Whatever, you're driving," he said to Quinn before yanking on his shoes. He scrounged up some money from the top of his tall bureau and did his best to politely escort the girls out in the hall. He caught Rachel gazing back at where Finn's jeans were thrown over the edge of his bed. He saw Quinn looking at the mostly empty bottle of cologne that was still on Finn's desk. Even his coffee cup, the one he had used the morning that it happened, was left unwashed on the window sill. Puck knew how it looked but he also knew that he didn't really care.

They were quiet on the way to the tattoo parlor, this place Rachel found on her phone while Quinn headed off campus grounds. The blonde talked to the guy behind the counter once they got there, softly explaining what they were after. Rachel pointed to a design on the wall and then joined Quinn in helping the artist draw out exactly what they had in mind. Puck just stood in the background with his hands buried in his pockets.

"Who's going first?" The three friends looked between each other before Puck finally raised his hand. "Do you girls want to come back to watch?"

"Noah, what do you want?" Rachel asked quietly.

He looked at the brunette and then at the blonde. "Do you want, um, maybe come back, yeah?"

Quinn giggled gently at the mumbled question. "We'll come hold your hand, you big wimp."

Puck couldn't help but think about the last time somehow had held his hand when there was a needle involved. He had been in second grade and had broken out his front teeth while playing Batman with Finn on the playground. His mom had been stuck at work, so Carole had taken both the boys to the dentist office so Puck could have the remnants extracted. Finn had always sensed when Puck was scared even before it happened, and he had volunteered to go back with his best friend. "To see the guts and stuff," he had insisted as he followed the shorter boy into the room. Finn never told anyone that he was holding Puck's hand when he passed out from the sight of blood.

So he's there in the chair, Quinn holding his left hand while Rachel's hand rests lightly on his shin. The technician talked him through what's about to happen but Puck doesn't hear him. He only heard Quinn's soft breaths and Rachel's hums when Puck started to shake a little upon first contact from the needle. Fifteen minutes later, the guy is wiping away at the inflamed skin. Puck looks down at the bold ink on his wrist, the tiny little FH staring back up at him.

"What do you think?" the guy asked.

"Yeah," Puck grinned up at him with a nod. "Yeah."

Quinn goes next and Rachel rotates up to hold her hand. Finn sits at her feet, smiling up at her while they talk about the time that Finn threw up on the Raptor at Cedar Point after eating six corn dogs. She doesn't even flinch and before they known it, the guy is taping a swatch of gauze over her pale skin. Rachel slides into the seat next, and Puck moves to take her hand. He sings some cheesy John Mellencamp song with Quinn while the guy does his work, and Rachel is so unbothered by the needle that she ends up singing with them.

"We should send Carole a picture," Quinn decides after they're done. Her wrist is laying to the left of Puck's, Rachel's on his right. She manages to take a somewhat decent snapshot and sends it off in an email to Finn's mom.

"Thank God for stage makeup," Rachel declared. "But I love it, no regrets at all."

"My ma is going to kill me," Puck muttered with a happy smile. "She's not going to understand."

"Not like us, huh?" Rachel asked, her eyes twinkling as she looks at Noah and Quinn.

He gazes at her and shakes his head a little in acknowledgement. "No, Rach, not like us."


	3. The Auditorium

It's cold, colder than Puck remembers Ohio being in years, and the power is out in the dorm building. It's made him desperate to find a warm refuge, but he has no idea where he's going to end up when he slides behind the wheel of his prized truck. He should have been more surprised when he found himself back at McKinley, but he's on autopilot as he pulls his guitar from the passenger side and heads toward the auditorium. The lights are dim since the spacious room isn't in use this period, but he knows where all the switches are. Opting for a more dramatic flair, he illuminates only the center of the stage with a single spotlight. There's a forgotten stool pushed to the side just behind the edge of the red velvet curtain.

He hadn't been up there in a year, not since last Thanksgiving when everyone had come to Lima for the first time since graduation. They'd found their way there without any real plans – Finn, Mike, Mercedes, Puck and Quinn. There would be none of that today. Quinn was back in New Haven, Mike was in Chicago and Mercedes was in LA. Finn was there though, Puck could feel him right beside him as he perched on the edge of the wooden seat and started to strum a slow, haunting melody.

He played on autopilot at first, not really recognizing the melody. His hazel eyes closed, he just allowed muscle memory to lead him through the notes and chord progressions. It's when he starts to hum along that he realizes that it's Journey, and he's sure more than ever that Finn is right there with him. "Precious Time" falls freely from his lips, and he realizes that it's the first time he's cried since the funeral. He thinks about Finn every day, smiles and tries to hold onto only the good, but he never lets himself get sad. This time, there is no getting past that.

The phone is ringing before he knows what's happening and he hears her voice on the other end. It sounds so far away and he thinks that it actually is kind of far to New York. He doesn't say anything back, only chokes on a sob, and she somehow manages to stay quiet for once in her life. He cries for five minutes before apologizing and hanging up. She knows better than to call him back.

He makes another call after he's sure that the tears are gone. Quinn is a little more upbeat when she answers, huffing slightly as she explains that she's walking across campus on the way to her music theory class. "I was just thinking about calling you actually," she admitted softly. He can picture her there among the falling leaves, her breath coming out in small puffs of visible air. "They started selling eggnog in the union today. And you know, Finn always…"

"Finn always loved eggnog," he finished for her. The sadness is back but he manages to push it down. "Remember that time he got really drunk sophomore year on it? He threw up all over Matt's mom's new rug. You were so pissed."

"God, he never was never good at knowing his limits," she laughed. "I miss him a lot today. It's like that, isn't it? I'll be having a good day and I'll see a tall boy or smell something familiar and it hits me like a freight train. And then I can't stop thinking about him and feel bad that I haven't been thinking about him all along."

Puck looked around the room and smiled to himself. "He's everywhere here," he told her. There wasn't a single inch of this town that didn't have a memory of Finn, and that's probably the biggest reason Puck is scared to leave Lima behind. That coffee cup still sitting on his window sill two months later is proof of that. "I'm thinking about going up to New York to see Berry and Beyonce. I feel like someone should check on them. I know they have each other and San, but I don't know, I think it's what he'd want. Do you want to meet us up there? We could have a little reunion or whatever."

He could hear Quinn's smile from hundreds of miles. "Yeah, that'd be awesome."

"Alright, I'll text you the details after I talk to Berry," he promised. "You should get to class, learn something. At least one of us should be a productive member of society."

"Yeah, yeah," she brushed him off.

"Later, Q," he said before ending the call. He put his guitar away and carried the case down to sit on the floor next to his favorite seat in the back row. It's the same place, just out of the edge of the light, where he and Finn used to sneak off when they wanted to skip class. He looks over at the empty chair next to him and pats the seat. He can still see that stupid grin leering back at him. It's enough to make him reach for his phone again and call her. "Sorry about earlier, Berry."

"Oh, Noah," she said softly, "it's fine. I'm just trying to get through my morning rehearsal. The choreographer and the director have a very different opinion on the way that this should go…And you probably don't want to hear about any of that."

He chuckled into her ear. "Whatever, Berry. God help me, I actually listen when you talk most of the time now. When did that start happening?" he teased her. "But no, I actually had a reason for calling you this time. I was thinking about coming up to see you next week. Quinn said she'd take the train down from Connecticut."

"That would be great, really great actually," she exclaimed cheerfully. While she still adored the life she'd built for herself in New York, she missed the things – the people – that would always make Ohio home. "So you know what I've been up to, what about you?"

"More of the same," he answered shortly. "I sang Journey earlier so that sucked."

She suddenly understood the phone call. "Can I tell you a secret? I never really got why he loved that band so much."

Puck laughed. It was a question he had pondered himself many times over the years. "Probably the same reason he liked that cowboy wallpaper and all those striped polo shirts," he told her as he picked up his guitar and started for the door. He flipped off the light on his way past, not bothering to steal a look back at the stage. "Someone convinced him at some point that they were a good idea, and Finn always found a lot of comfort in what he knew. He was so reliable. You could always predict how he was gonna react, what he was going to do, what he'd think."

"Not like us," Rachel declared.

Puck let the front door to the school slam behind him loudly as he entered back into the freezing November air. He smiled up at the brilliantly blue sky, still so sure that Finn was right there with him. "Nope, that's not like us at all."


	4. The Brothers

Puck sat on his little bed in his dorm room, staring at the flashing lights on the little tree he'd nabbed off some clearance shelf two days ago. It was Christmas Eve, his favorite day of the year, even if he didn't celebrate the holiday as part of his own religion. He was a proud Jew, but there was something about the promise of good tidings and frosted cookies and familial warmth that just made the day special. Then again, maybe it was because it had always been the one holiday he spent with Finn. It had been his favorite too.

He had been thinking about skipping out of town for the day, just driving until he ran out of gas and then holing up in some sad motel with a bottle of Jack until the 26th. And then he thought about the way Finn's face used to light up when his mom would pull out the Christmas ornaments when they were kids and Puck just wanted anything familiar. He still missed his best friend every single day, but today, he seemed to miss him most of all.

A glance at his watch indicated that it was time to get going. The rest of the dorms were deserted, pretty much closed down for the break. Puck had been one of a few students to stay behind to keep an eye on things, a reprieve he was thankful for because he didn't really want to go back to sharing a bathroom and a bedroom wall with his little sister. He tucked three small packages into the oversized pockets of his leather jacket and then headed out into the brisk December night to make the short drive across town.

"Well, hello there, Puck," Burt announced when Puck knocked on the door fifteen minutes later. The younger man ducked his head a little before following Mr. Hummel into the warmth of the spacious living room. Carole's face lit up as she looked up from her cup of coffee on the couch. Puck could see a football game on the big screen playing over her shoulder. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"I was," Carole murmured as she set her mug down on the end table and made her way over to hug her honorary son. Puck squeezed her tightly, burying his face in the soft material of her read sweater. She still smelled the same way that she always had, like cinnamon and laundry detergent and the astringent they used at the hospital. "Noah has never missed a Christmas Eve with us, have you, hon?"

Puck shook his head. "Not a single one, Mom," he agreed before placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I actually have something for you both."

"Puck, you didn't have to get us anything," Burt said as he led his wife and the younger man back into the living room. Puck sat down on the sofa opposite Carole while Burt took his place in his favorite chair.

"But you know that I have something for you under that tree," Carole smiled. She always made sure that his name on was on her shopping list. Finn had always insisted, even that lost year when they weren't talking because of the whole Quinn debacle. It made up for the years that Puck's own mom couldn't do much for him. Even if it wasn't much, it always reminded him that the Hudsons cared.

"I have something for Kurt too but I'll give it to him in a little bit. I want you to open yours first," he told Burt before pulling out two packages. He handed a small bag with red and silver jingle bells on it to him. "It's not much but I hope you still like it."

Pushing away at the tissue paper, Burt slowly pulled out a silver engraved frame. It was the one that Finn had showed Puck that summer. "He saw it in a catalog and thought it'd look good on your desk in DC," Puck explained. He watched Burt trace his fingers over the words, _The Hudmels_, and grin fondly. There was a somewhat blurry photo of the four of them standing in front of the Capitol building on one of the few rare weekends they all ended up in Washington together. "I found the photo in his desk drawer. You can change it out of if you have a better one."

Burt bit down on his bottom lip to push back the tears threatening to fall. "No, it's wonderful," he almost chuckled. He was in the middle of the two boys, his arm thrown around Finn's shoulder and his lips pressed to Kurt's temple. Carole was in front of him, Finn's arm reaching down to hold his mother's hand while Kurt's own hand reached across her body to cover their hands with his own. "It's absolutely perfect."

The three of them shared a content smile when Kurt came ambling into the room. "Puck?"

"Hey, Beyonce," Puck smirked. "Do you have a minute? I have something I want to give you."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he answered wearily after looking over at his father. "We'll be downstairs."

Puck followed Kurt downstairs to the basement, taking in the room that had once belonged half to Finn. Sam was still staying with the Hudsons and had taken over Finn's half of the room when he'd moved into the dorms with Puck. A few of Finn's things were now on Kurt's side of the room, including a trademark jacket that caught Puck's eye. "You got it back from San?"

"Mr. Schue actually," Kurt smiled softly. He watched as the boy fingered the leather and pressed his face into the scratchy wool. "I still imagine that I can smell him there too. I can't though, you know?"

Puck nodded sadly as he crossed over to sit at Kurt's vanity. He was starting to lose those little things in the dorm room one by one. The coffee cup was still there, though. It seemed silly to leave it but Puck still wasn't ready to full admit that his best friend was just…gone.

"Anyway, I came over here to bring you this," Puck said finally, sliding a slim box out of his pocket. It was wrapped haphazardly in plaid paper that had reminded him so much of Finn. It was the same paper he had used to wrap the little gold star earrings he had sent Rachel. Kurt looked at him sadly, knowing why he had bought the gift. "Just open it, dude, it's not a big deal."

Kurt lifted away the lid to find a cashmere scarf. "He saw it when we were in Columbus, saved for a while so that he'd be able to afford the thing," Puck explained. "He kept the money in a jar between the mattresses like I wouldn't find it. Anyway, it paid for most of it and then I just kicked in the rest. For whatever reason, Finn really wanted you to have this. He thought you would love it."

"You got it monogrammed," Kurt announced with surprise. Rather than the K that should have been there, Puck had opted for a scripted F. Call him sentimental, but Puck liked the idea that Kurt would always be able to carry a little piece of Finn with him. "Puck, I don't know what to say…"

"Don't mention it, man," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Finn was my bro and he was your bro and that kinda makes us bros-in-law or something."

"I'm not sure that's exactly correct."

"It doesn't need to be. You were Finn's people and he was like my best person or whatever so…He'd want me to make sure you had this, okay?"

Kurt came over and wrapped his arms around Puck. The guy tensed before relaxing. "I'd be happy to have you as a brother," he said softly before pulling away. He didn't have any siblings left, and even if Puck had Jake now, Kurt knew that it wasn't the same as having Finn. "We've never been close, I know, but you're the only one who even sorta gets what I lost." Then he pulled away and pulled an envelope out of his bedside table. "Which is why I think you should have this."

Puck took the envelope and stopped when he saw Finn's familiar scrawl. "He ordered them this summer for Dad for Christmas," Kurt explained. Puck slid two Browns tickets out. "The experience would be totally lost on me, I was just going to go to humor my dad and in Finn's honor. I think they'd both like it better if you went instead. Carole and I could stay home and watch old Christmas musicals like we always did when they snuck off for their game."

"Dude, I can't just take these. He's your dad, you should…"

"My dad and I have plenty of things we do together, and football is not one of them," Kurt assured him. "Besides, I saw that picture up there. I know what you did for my dad. Trust me, it's what our brother would want."

Puck talked to Kurt for a little while longer before promising to make the trip up to New York before classes started back up to spend some time with him, Santana and Rachel. Carole was waiting for him at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee when he came back into the kitchen. He kissed the top of her head as he reached for a couple of the cookies sitting on the counter. Puck took a bite out of one shaped like Santa and hummed appreciatively.

"Here, Mom," he said softly, placing the tiny square box in front of her. "This one is from both of us."

She fingered the paper, recognizing it very well. It was from the roll that Puck and Finn had made in sixth grade and sold at the school's holiday store. There were Puck's blue Stars of David tucked between Finn's messy candy canes and mistletoe. Puck's mom had bought the entire thing, and the two boys shared little pieces each year to wrap their mothers' gifts. "It's the last little bit," Puck told her sadly. "I had just enough to wrap up Ma's."

"You should keep this," she said as she peeled it back.

"No, I have all these pieces of Finn everywhere," he smiled thoughtfully. "This one is yours, Mom."

She grinned at him before she pulled out the blue velvet box. "Oh, Noah," she gasped when she opened it. There was the tiniest pair of diamond earrings he had ever seen in there. It was all he could afford but he had wanted to get her something special. "They're beautiful."

"When we were kids, when Finn would talk about becoming the next Joe Montana and I wanted to be the next Springsteen, we always talked about how we would get our moms all the diamonds in the world. It's far from everything, but I think it's a nice start."

Tears started to stream down her face as she buried her face in her hands. He hadn't seen her cry, not like this, since the funeral. "Hey, Mom, it's okay," he murmured as he moved his chair around hers. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. There had been a time when this was the only sense of normalcy he had.

"I know that everyone misses him. Burt and Kurt, I see it in their eyes all the time," she said softly. "And Mr. Schuester, when I ran into him at the grocery store last week, he could barely keep it together. Rachel calls to check on me, Quinn too. Blaine and Tina come by to see Sam and visit with me. They all miss him but it's not the same, is it?"

While it wasn't true that even he could fully comprehend the grief that Carole felt, he knew what she was getting at. She and Puck had something that the others didn't – they had a whole life time of Finn. They had memories that went all the way to Finn's beginning, or at least the one that the boy could really remember anyhow. That was all wrapped up in Puck, and that's why he could understand in a way that the Hummels and Quinn, Blaine and Chang, even Rachel would never really get.

"They don't miss him like I do, you know? They don't miss him the same way, Noah, not like us."

"They can't, Mom," he told her before wrapping her into another hug. "No one can, not like us."

* * *

**_Author's Note: To address some commonly asked questions, this does not follow canon. It will have some parallels at times, I'm sure, but it's my own timeline. And the plan is to do a chapter for each month of the first year of being without Finn, with no romantic storyline involved. This is about grief, mostly from Puck's point of view, and I don't think that it's the right place for me to delve into Rachel moving on. I've done that before with "Man He Didn't Have to Be," and I'm happy with how that turned out. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy what's to come._**


	5. The Blizzard

He's in New York, and yet, somehow, Puck ends up stuck with Quinn when the blizzard hits. Rachel and Kurt are across town at some audition that they just had to be at before classes start, and Santana had agreed to pick up a shift at the diner last minute to help pay for her spring break ticket to Cabo. They were all supposed to spend the week together, but life seemed to march on despite their plans. What was going to be "just a few hours" for the loft's usual inhabitants had turned into them crashing with friends until the snow slowed down and public transit was back running again.

"You'll be okay, won't you?" Puck hears Rachel ask Quinn when she calls to tell them that they won't be able to make it back from NYADA. "I mean, I'm sure we could try to find a cab."

"We're fine, Rachel," Quinn assures her as she looks out the window at the thick white powder blanketing the city. "Puck and I are from Lima too; we know what to do when it snows."

So Quinn hangs up the phone and Puck goes to find some candles and matches just in case they lose power. They gather up blankets and set up camp in the living room, neither of them really wanting to sleep apart with everyone else gone. He gives Quinn the couch and makes a palette on the floor a few feet in front of television. She smiles gratefully when he hands over the remote before heading into the tiny kitchen for a glass of water.

Quinn comes looking for him eventually when he doesn't come back in the living room. She finds him sitting on an open window ledge, guitar in his lap, strumming idly while he looks out at the lights below. He used to love snow when he was a kid. Boys like him lived for snow days. He'd put on his thick parka and dumb snow boots and trek the four blocks over to Finn's house. They'd spend the entire day outside making forts, sledding down the hill on Ada Road, getting in snowball fights, all the things kids were supposed to do on snow days. And when they were too cold to go on, they'd collapse in a heap of wet clothes in the Hudsons' kitchen while Carole made them hot chocolate and sugar cookies. He particularly loved the big snow storms where he might get to spend two or three days over at Finn's.

"You know, I've never been through a blizzard without him," he says out of nowhere. It's only then that Quinn realizes he's been playing 'Let It Snow.' He doesn't stop strumming or bother to even look at her. "Even in high school, he'd call me as soon as school got cancelled. We always spent snow days together."

"I remember," Quinn replies. She had initially had these romantic notions of snow days by the fire when she had started up with Finn sophomore year, but she had quickly learned that those days belonged to Puck. She got a lot of his other moments, but that one had always been all theirs. "He'd get so excited when it snowed. I remember that second time we were together, he was walking across the parking lot after glee, and he stopped to try to catch a snowflake on his tongue. And then he asked San if she could take me home so that he could go off and play with you."

"Jesus, he always was oblivious," Puck chuckles as his fingers still on the strings. He's pretty sure he remembers that day. It was the first big snow that had fallen on Lima since they'd become friends again. "But he knew what those days meant to me, why they were important. I keep thinking about that, about how many traditions died with him. He knew all my secrets, Q. He was the first one besides my Ma and Sarah that really loved not just Puck but also Noah."

And that right there, that's the one thing that Quinn can understand about Puck and Finn that no one else can. There weren't two versions of Rachel or Kurt or Mr. Schue. They were who they were, on the surface and deep below. But people like Quinn and Puck, the ones who needed a strong exterior to protect the fragile hearts they fought to hide, they created an alternate persona out of necessity. That wasn't something they shared easily. For Quinn, she always wondered how it would be if they didn't like whom she really was deep inside. Puck always worried about what would happen if they did.

"Finn loved Lucy when no one else did," she confides to him then. She knows he can use it against her later but doesn't think that he will. "Even after we broke up, he always kept that picture with him. It was in his locker and then in his wallet. I wondered what happened to it after, you know, but I didn't have the heart to ask his mom. It's something I'd really like to have."

"I could look for it for you," he offers, finally looking up from the Empire State Building to meet her eyes. "It's probably somewhere in the dorm or in the stuff from his old bedroom. I'm sure Carole would want you to have it, Q. She knows what you meant to Finn."

She nods slightly, a sadly content smile on her pretty pink lips. "You know that I worry that no one else will ever know Lucy again," she whispers as she slides down the wall opposite of him to sit on the floor. She draws her knees up and tucks them neatly beneath her chin. "Finn's the only one since I left my old school that has even known her. I ceased being Lucy to even my sister and my parents. I tried to be her when I first started at Yale and then I hooked up with my professor…So, yeah, that didn't work."

Puck thinks about how he could console her, how he could promise her that someone would love her like Finn once had, but he didn't really want to. He knew that would only lead to her trying to reassure her that someone would care about him the same way Finn once had but that would only be a lie. There was no one else who would ever understand him like his best friend, his brother, had. So, instead, he moves his gaze back to the lights and doesn't say anything at all.

Finally, she stands up and nods toward the living room. "I think I'm going to get ready for bed."

He smiles at her kindly and offers a little wave. She's just about out of the room when he calls out to her. "Hey, Q?" he asks as she turns back to look at him. He thought about calling her Lucy then but it doesn't feel right. "Finn really loved Lucy."

"Finn really loved Noah."

"They'll never understand that though, will they?"

Quinn looked down at her feet and shook her head. "Not like us, not like Puck and Quinn."


	6. The Dream

He wakes up in a cold sweat.

It's Valentine's Day, one of his least favorite days of the year. There have been stupid red heart and fat baby cupids staring at him everywhere in the dorms this week, and he hates all the people that looks so happy just because they're going to get to spend some superficial made-up holiday with the one they love. He hasn't had a Valentine for a few years, not since that failed date with Lauren. But that's not what is bothering him; it's that damn dream. He's been having it for two weeks now.

_They're lying on their backs on the 50-yard line back at McKinley, their bodies opposite each other with their heads close together. "I think that one looks like Santana's ass," Puck decides, pointing to a heart-shaped cumulus cloud passing slowly overhead. "That one kind of reminds me of Berry's mouth."_

_"Dude, not cool," Finn mutters under his breath, grinning despite himself. He turns on his side, head propped up on his fist, and looks at his best friend. "She's starting to move on, isn't she? They all are. Everyone really, everyone except you."_

_"It's not that easy, man," Puck manages. He wants to reach out and clasp his hand on Finn's shoulder, but he knows that his hand will just move through him like it did the last time. He had wished so hard to just get to talk to Finn one last time, and now, they've been meeting like this every night in his dreams. "If I start to move on then I'll start to forget, and I just can't do that to you, man."_

_Finn smiles that way that only Finn ever smiled at Puck. "C'mon, you're not gonna forget me just like that," he assures his best friend. "You're missing out on too much by staying stuck inside this. Like that cute redhead down the hall, Kelsey, she's totally into you. She keeps trying to drop hints but you're totally missing them. And you always said that I was the oblivious one…"_

_"You are," Puck shoots back, ignoring his friend's use of the past tense, "and I didn't miss out on Kelsey's not-so-subtle hints. I'm just not interested, man. I've got the screenplay and classes and visiting your mom. I'm trying to take care of everything, and I won't be able to do that if I lose focus."_

_"Hey, man, you know you don't have to be strong for everyone all the time, right?" Finn asks, but of course, Puck knows that he does. Finn's not here to balance him out, to give him a place to be weak. "I know I can't be there, that it's not the same, but I've still got you. I'm always gonna have your back, dude, even if you can't see it. I know you'll feel it."_

_"That sounds weird, Finnessa," Puck grimaces. It's still comforting though so he lets his friend know that. "I need to start going through your stuff, huh? I still won't let anyone move anything. I think the only things I've given away is your picture of Lucy to Quinn and that one photo album I sent to Rach. I know your mom should have some of this stuff. Maybe she'd help me, I'm sure she knows what Kurt would want."_

_Finn doesn't say anything as Puck turns over to look at his best friend. Puck tries to memorize the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, that throaty way he laughs when he starts to talk. He wants to remember them so he can talk about them with Rachel later. He's pretty sure she'll appreciate his nightly visits with Finn. Maybe he comes to see her too; maybe they could talk a little about them…about him._

_"Just leave the coffee cup, though, okay? A little piece still needs to be here, right?" _

_"Dude, there are so many pieces of you scattered all over this world right now," Puck says. "They all carry you everywhere with them. You're with Mike in Chicago and Mercedes in LA. Brittany has you with her in Boston and you know that there is a huge chunk of you in New York with San and Kurt and Berry. You're all over this town."_

_Finn waits a second before offering up the rhetorical but necessary, "And?"_

_"And I've got you right here," Puck says, tapping his palm to his heart. It's a reminder to himse;f more than it is to Finn really. He's pretty sure that's why his mind started to manifest these dreams in the first place. It's more emotional, more honest, than anything he would have usually said, but Finn can't **really** be there to tease him about it. "I'm always going to have you right here."_

_"Exactly, bro, so stop worrying so much about forgetting me. I'll always be here to hang out when you need me. I promised you that when we were six years old, you really think I'm going to go back on my promise now?"_

_Puck can hear a ringing in the far off distance. He thinks it's some kind of heavenly bells calling Finn back for a minute and then he remembers that he's Jewish. Instead, it's his alarm and he has biology in a few hours. "Alright, man, I better get going. I'll see you soon, right?"_

_"Sure thing, dude," Finn says as they both stand up. They exchange some intricate handshake that ends in a fist bump before Puck reaches out and pulls him into a firm hug. His arms don't go through him this time; he can actually feel Finn's hands. He knows it's fleeting but he relishes the touch. It's warm and Puck would almost swear that it's the best thing he's ever felt (besides Santana's boobs freshman year because, oy)._

_"See you, bro," Puck says with a wave before he starts to walk off. He's just about reached the sideline when he Finn calls out to him. _

_"Tell Rachel I miss her too, okay?" Finn pleads. "I miss you both, all the time, so much."_

Puck knows that he never replies when it gets to that part. He hasn't told Berry yet, but there's something about today that has him rolling over and reaching for the phone. He stares at the coffee cup still resting in the window sill as the call rings in his ear.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Noah!"

He chuckles at her false bravado. Anyone else would think she sounds cheerful, but he knows that it's just a weak front. "Happy Valentine's Day, Faker," he replies into the phone. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for Blaine at the train station actually, he came in to surprise Kurt now that they're officially engaged," she answers. "San is off with Dani, I'm the only one alone. It actually kind of, to steal a word from your vocabulary, sucks."

"Heh, yeah," he says as he stretches out. He tucks the phone beneath his chin as he reaches for the coffee cup. He moves it from one hand to the other. "I had this dream."

"About Finn?" she asks, her voice so small. "Yeah, me too, three days ago and then again last night. He misses you, you know."

"He misses you too."

"I hate all these happy people, Noah," she declares. "They walk around like today is just the greatest thing that ever happened and that we're all so lucky to be in love. I don't want to be in love anymore; it hurts way too much. I thought I knew pain before but I didn't, did I? It never hurt like this."

Something rumbles low in his stomach. It's a different kind of love but the pain is just as deep. "We should start some bitter Lonely Hearts Club or something," he tells her. "But they wouldn't be sad, would they, Berry? Not like us?"

He can see her there, standing in the bustle of New York, looking so young and alone. "No, Noah, they couldn't be sad enough to be like you and me. They can't be; they're not like us."


	7. The Tree

He remembers seeing this movie once, some shitty chick flick with Mandy Moore that Quinn made him watch while she was pregnant with Beth, where the guy's best friend dies and they plan a Flaming Lips song. That's what he thinks it should have been like for Finn.

Instead, Burt and Carole had let Kurt pick and he had ended up choosing some song that didn't say enough about who Puck was. That was why he had chosen to play the Springsteen song for the glee kids during that rough week a little after the funeral. But when he hears that same Flaming Lips song one day while driving across Lima to pick up Rachel and Santana at the train station, he ends up pulling into some alley and sobbing into his steering wheel for a good fifteen minutes.

His eyes are red, angry and swollen by the time he pulls up to the train depot. The girls are back in town to spend the long weekend in March with their parents, Santana for Easter and Rachel for Passover. Kurt will be flying in on Friday afternoon to see Carole and Burt, and Blaine has put this whole thing together for all the old kids at the Hummels' house that night. Puck didn't really want to go but Q and Berry were going to be there. Plus, Santana was in town and he hadn't legit hung out with his girl solo in forever. She's staring at him now through the open window. She's smart enough to know not to say anything but Rachel hasn't quite picked up on that subtle clue. He immediately glares at her when she asks what's wrong.

"Just leave it, Rachel," Santana murmurs softly as she helps the shorter girl stash their suitcases in the bed of his trusty pickup. She opens the door and slides in first, deciding that it's better to put a little distance between her very angry friend and her unsuspecting roommate. She wraps her left arm around him in a side hug before ordering him to go to Breadstix. "Mama's hungry and she's paying."

Puck knocks his thigh against hers in silent thanks before he pulls back out onto the busy street. Rachel is off and running with news about her show, one that Puck has tickets to see when it opens up next month. He tries to listen for a while but mostly focuses on the traffic passing on all sides of him.

"Brittany's coming back tomorrow," Santana tells them – well, really him – when they stop behind a sporty red convertible at a stoplight. "She wants Sam and I to come pick her up together. Do you, uh, maybe want to go with us?"

"I can do that," he tells her coolly. He'd always loved Brittany, but it was fairly impossible not to love the wide-eyed blonde. He also gets why she needs a buffer. No one knows where Britt's head is at, not that they ever really did. Even with a new girlfriend, things would never really be over between Brittany and Santana.

He drops Rachel off first after lunch with a promise to come by that night for dinner with her fathers. He heads to the lake when Santana tells him that she's not ready to go home just yet. They used to come out here all the time when they used to hook up, but it's been years since he kissed her last. She takes off her seatbelt and slides across the seat next to him when he parks in the empty gravel lot. He starts to sob as soon as her arms are around him.

"It's been six months, Puckerman," she says once the tears have subsided. "Have you thought about talking to someone? I know it's about him."

"It's always about him, isn't it?"

She smiles fondly. "I don't even know how you and Berry do it at all. I just think about how I would feel if it was Britt," she shakes her head a little. She had her own moments during that lost week in Lima, the one she didn't like to think about and never fully told Rachel about when they got back to New York. "I mean, we all lost him but it was different for you and her, you know? Quinn and Kurt to a degree, but you and Rach…"

"I'm so lost, San," he tells her honestly. "Coach told me months ago that I was going to have to figure out how to go on without following his lead but I don't know how to do that. I think I'm going along just fine and then something happens and I'm back here all over again."

She reaches up and rubs the shaved part of his newly returned mohawk with a certain affection. "You know that you can talk to me about him, right? I know our relationship was always a little more physical and whatever, but you're my boy. You know me better than anyone other than Britt."

"Yeah," he exhales slowly. The truth was that he hadn't really had a place to go with all of this. He'd been doing a decent job at repressing and reorganizing the emotions so that he could deal with Carole and Rachel and Quinn and Kurt. He could spout off a lie that he was fine with the best of them, and even if they saw through it, the others never said anything. But Santana was Puck's female incarnate and she got him. "Just heard this song, you know, and it was like ripping off the bandage all over again. You know that I go to that tree and talk to him? I go out there and tell him everything. Isn't that stupid? Finn never even went to that tree; I don't know why I feel him there. Hell, I feel him everywhere."

"You could go to the cemetery…"

Puck shook his head. "Went there once, took Beth when Shelby was down so he could see her. Sounds stupid, doesn't it? I just wanted him to have that moment. We should have had it when he was alive."

"So you go to the tree and you talk to him. Have you sung to him?"

"I take my guitar there every week. You're the only besides Berry who knows that," he admits. "I put her on speaker and she sings while I play the guitar. Finn always did hate how good we sound together." There's a sly smile on his face. Even with all the love of the legendary Finchel, the chemistry between Puck and Rachel had always been undeniable. "I just really miss my best friend today."

Santana gets a call from her mom asking if she's going to be around for dinner, so he ends up dropping her off at her house. He heads back over to Rachel's house for supper with her fathers. It's quiet but nice, the only home cooked meal he's had outside the Hummels' in months. Afterward, Rachel grabs him by the wrist and drags him out to his truck. She climbs behind the steering wheel and tells him that she's driving. He starts to argue because no one drives his baby, but she stops him short by buckling him into the seatbelt.

Since her mom had dropped her off a few minutes before, Santana is already waiting when they pulled up to the high school. Rachel grabs him with her left hand and his guitar with the right. He doesn't know until then that Rachel's been taking lessons in New York from some kid down the hall who couldn't make his rent otherwise. She starts to strum the song, the one that he heard earlier and stupidly told Santana about. Neither of them sing as they look at him expectantly. He finally starts to hum along when Rachel hits the bridge, and he manages to hit every note when she starts all over again.

They sing through it together the next time, Santana coming in on the fourth run-through. And when they're done, Rachel silently packs up the guitar and Santana wordlessly blows out all the candles except one and they head back to wait at his truck while he talks to Finn. He wonders briefly it'd be stupid to hug a tree and decides that it definitely would be. Instead, he picks one of the freshly budded leaves and twirls it between calloused fingertips.

"Alright, dude, I'm gonna cut out," he says finally. He starts to walk away when a gentle breeze turns him back. _Yeah_, he thinks, _you're here_. He looks over at the girls and then back to that stupid tree. "They're pretty awesome, bro, but not like us. We were always awesome, and you, Finn, you were always the best part of me."

Rachel sits in the middle this time and holds his hand all the way back to her house. It's the first time in a long time that Puck has felt at peace.


	8. The Ticket

Spring in New York was warmer than Puck expected, but even if he was sweating a little in his tailored black suit, he knew that he'd never looked better. Santana was on his right arm, dressed in a red dress way too short to be proper for the theater. Kurt flanked her other side. The three of them were headed to the theater to see Rachel's show open.

"I hope she got the flowers I sent," he muttered as he waited impatiently in the line to get into the theater. Kurt fiddled with his tie nervously while Santana made eyes at a petite blonde working the VIP rope line. Puck knew that neither of them was really paying attention anyhow. He always made small talk when he was anxious. Tonight was really important to Rachel, and Puck felt like he was kind of representing for two by being here. Finn would have been so proud of Rachel, and Puck had told her as much in the note that had accompanied the pink peonies he had picked out for the occasion. "Did you know that peonies symbolize fortune or some shit like that?"

"Huh?" Santana asked as she tore her gaze away from the new object of her overt affection. "Why are you talking about flowers? Isn't that Hummel's job?"

Kurt rolled his eyes as he held his hand out for the ticket. Puck handed one over to him and then gave two to the blonde so that he and Santana could get in. Santana dug her freshly manicured nails into his forearm as he led them through the bustling lobby. Even though she hadn't said anything about it, Puck knew that Santana was just as nervous for Rachel as he and Kurt were. It wasn't that they doubted she would do well; it was obvious that she would be flawless. They just knew what the night meant for Rachel. It was the culmination of a year's preparation and a lifetime dream. She deserved her moment of perfection.

They filed into the front row of the cozy but ornate space, having been assigned the four seats in the dead center. They were the same seats her fathers would share with Burt and Carole when they came in for the weekend. There had been a little debate about who would get the coveted seats on opening night, but Rachel had been set on having Kurt, Santana and Puck there. The other seat had been reserved for Blaine, but after Puck had talked to Kurt, they had put another plan into action.

Kurt went in first, followed by Puck. They left a seat empty between them and Santana took the empty seat on the other side of Puck. Puck stashed the paper bag he had been carrying beneath his seat, kicking the crinkly brown paper bag so that it was out of sight. He held the object that had been hidden until now in his hands, allowing his fingers to caress the cracked cream leather and the thick red wool.

"Remember that's only on loan for the night," Santana reminded him as she looked down at the coat in his hand. She smiled a little when Puck smirked at her. "I'm really glad you thought of this."

"Yeah, thanks for agreeing, Hummel," Puck said as he carefully folded the red velvet seat down to his left. Kurt helped him arrange the coat into the seat while Puck topped it off with the fourth ticket. Finn would have been here if he could have been, and Puck was hoping that he somehow still was. "I know that you really wanted Blaine to be here, so I really appreciate it."

"It was the right thing," Kurt said dismissively as the house lights flashed to indicate that the show was about to start. "I can almost feel him here with us."

Santana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "His leg would bouncing in that really annoying way it always did when he got amped up. I swear, that lug had the nervous energy of a five-year-old."

"And he would be wringing his hands, maybe playing air drums on his knee," Kurt added. "He always did that when he couldn't sit still. I could never quite figure out what he played though."

"Springsteen," Puck said automatically. "It was always a Springsteen song."

That was a minute detail that only Puck probably knew. The Boss was the guy who had convinced both of them they wanted to be rock stars. He was one of the first guys they ever learned to play, Puck always on guitar and Finn right beside him on drums. He doesn't get the chance to elaborate further because the lights dimmed. He saw her as soon as the plush curtains parted, never looking more beautiful, staring down at the front row right at him. He watched her eyes flick to the right at Santana and then to the left at Kurt. He knew the second she noticed his coat in the empty seat because her pupils flashed with something familiar. And then, with a deep breath, she was off.

Ninety-five minutes and three standing ovations later, Puck was still holding the coat as he was being led backstage by a uniformed security guard. Kurt and Santana were talking animatedly behind him, but he couldn't be bothered to listen to them.

"I am so fuckin' proud of you," he whispered as soon as they were in her private dressing room, not caring that there were about a million people around as he swept her off her feet. The coat was pressed between them as she hugged him tightly. He pulled back just enough to look into her glittering eyes. "He is too, Rach, you killed it."

She grabbed the sleeve for a moment before pressing herself to him for another hug. "Thank you, Noah," she whispered into his ear.

He moved out of the way so the others could congratulate her and fawn over and tell her how amazing he had always known that she was. Kurt and Rachel share a very poignant and tearful moment when they embrace, both of them realizing that there big New York dreams were coming truer and truer by the day. Santana squeezed her roommate and told her how hot she looked on stage. Other costars and crew members filtered in to pay their respect. Rachel didn't really seem to notice anyone other than the Lima three.

"I just need a few minutes," she said after a half-hour of accolades. There were flowers all over, but only Puck's peonies were beside the mirror. She had a picture of New Directions at Nationals tucked into the glass, along with one of her fathers and another of Finn. It was what Puck was staring at when she finally closed the doors, leaving the two of them alone. "Kurt and San went down to see if they could snatch a bottle of champagne. I thought you could use a little silence."

"You were amazing tonight, Rach," he said as he turned to meet her gaze. She blushed a little before sitting down at the vanity to start removing her makeup. Puck stood behind her for a moment, just watching, until he reached into his pocket. He pulled out the ticket, Finn's ticket, and added it to the mirror. "Just a little reminder that he's always going to be here."

She met his gaze in the glass and smiled widely. "I know it was your idea."

"We both needed him here tonight," he told her as he smoothed the folded coat over his arm. "I kept thinking about all the little things he would whisper to me while I was watching you. Between Kurt singing along to every word and Santana trying to hide her tears, I really missed having him here."

"He never was one for theater," Rachel acknowledged fondly, "but God knows he tried."

"Everyone is so proud of you, Berry," he said as he came to sit next to her on the bench. He tucked the coat around her narrow shoulders and then hugged her firmly against his side. "But not like us, babe; no one is as proud of you tonight as me and our boy. You are our star."

Rachel reached up and fingered her delicate gold star necklace, the one she had insisted on wearing tonight despite the costume department's very strong opinions. It had been many months of darkness for both of them. She had always been Finn's golden light, and tonight, if only for a moment, she was happy to be just that for Noah.


	9. The Sleepover

It's finally May now, the turning point where he finally has to say goodbye to this dorm. He hates it, knows that Carole does too. This was the last place Finn ever lived, the last place where he laid his head and the last place that he called home. Puck stares at the coffee cup still waiting on the window sill and shakes his head. It still feels like it's too soon.

The others are all back in town already, wanting to be there for the McKinley graduation since they were lucky enough to get out of school the week before Puck. Rachel had wanted to have a sleepover on Puck's last night in the dorm but he had politely declined. It only felt right to say this goodbye in private.

Classic rock is playing softly on his laptop, his stereo already back in his old bedroom at his Ma's. All that is left of his stuff are the requisite clothes, his bed stuff, the TV and the X Box. He hasn't even started packing any of Finn's things yet. That probably says more than it's supposed to.

He'd used his fake to get a six pack from the convenience store a few blocks away from campus, making sure to grab the bag of Funyuns on his way out. The welcome screen of Call of Duty was playing on the screen. Puck has been holding the controller for the last fifteen minutes but he hasn't made a move to actually start playing the game. He has just been staring at that stupid cup instead. Finally, he reaches over, cracks open a beer and pours the frothy contents into it.

"I feel, uh, like I should toast you or something, dude," he says to thin air, to Finn, to his best friend. "But words have never been my thing, you know? Berry would know what to say, Q and Kurt too. Maybe I should have let them cover over. They were your people too. But this place, it was just ours, wasn't it? They were never here when you were. That was something that you shared only with me."

Puck puts the cup to his lips and took a long sip. It's bitter as it slides down his throat. He had pretty much quit off drinking after Finn's death, too afraid of ending up like his old man. He stares at the screen for a few minutes before realizing that this is stupid. Finn wouldn't want him to be alone. Puck knows he wouldn't want Finn to be alone if he were the one still here. Tossing the controller on the bed, he picks up the phone to call Kurt. He trusts Hummel to put the Lima phone tree to good use. It only takes ten minutes for the person to show up.

"Hey, dude, I brought pizza," Mike announces as he comes into the room. He is holding three boxes in his left arm and a sleeping back in his right hand. "I was just about to head over to Artie's when Tina called him. We thought that this might be a better use."

"Where is Wheels?"

"Tina and Mercedes are gonna swing by to pick him up on their way to Rachel's," he replies as he sits down. "Q was having San and Britt over for a Cheerio reunion so they'll be by soon too. Kurt and Sam are going to go pick up Blaine. Everyone should be here within the half hour."

It takes more like forty-five minutes, but they're all scattered throughout the dorm room by the time Kurt is pressing play on some Matt Damon movie an hour later. He slides back into his sleeping bag between Blaine and Mercedes. Britt is in the middle of some really messed-up sandwich with Sam and Santana at the foot of Puck's bed. Mike and Tina are on either side of Artie, the three of them talking quietly about Chicago. Quinn is sitting in the spare desk chair, Finn's desk chair, and Puck is a little surprised he doesn't feel like yelling at her for it. Rachel is sitting in front of her while Quinn patiently pulls her hair back in a French braid. No one asks to sleep in Finn's bed.

They devour the pizza and watch another movie before it starts to get too late. Puck makes sure that everyone is situated before he kills the overhead light. He gives Quinn and Rachel his bed, opting to take a small patch of floor near the door. He grabbed Finn's comforter to cover them up without even thinking about it, and the little smile on Quinn's face lets him know that she knows exactly what he did. He just shrugs at her before tossing his own blanket on the floor and punching his pillow in a vain attempt to get comfortable.

He's not sure who starts it exactly, but it's Sam's voice that he notices first.

"Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world," he sings softly. "She took the midnight train goin' anywhere."

"Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit," Quinn adds from the bed. "He took the midnight train, goin' anywhere."

He hears Blaine sit up in the dark. "A singer in a smoky room, smell of wine and cheap perfume."

"For a smile, they can share the night," Tina continues. "It goes on and on and on and on."

"Strangers waiting up and down the boulevard. Their shadows searching in the night," Artie sang. "Streetlights, people, living just to find emotion. Hiding, somewhere in the night."

Kurt giggles a little before he opens his mouth. "Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill. Payin' anything to roll the dice, just one more time."

"Some will win, some will lose," Mike chimes in. "Some were born to sing the blues."

"Oh, the movie never ends," Brittany follows up. "It goes on and on and on and on."

"Strangers waiting up and down the boulevard. Their shadows searching in the night," Santana takes the chorus. "Streetlights, people, living just to find emotion. Hiding, somewhere in the night."

"Don't stop believin'," Rachel harmonizes as she reaches for Quinn's hand. The blonde reaches over and takes Santana's hand. The Latina finds Brittany's hand in the dark, causing the other blonde to reach out for Sam. "Hold on to the feelin'. Streetlights, people…"

Sam grasps his best friend's hand tightly, causing Blaine to seek out Kurt. Kurt grabs for Mercedes in the dark as Puck starts to sing. "Don't stop believin'," he wails, his eyes wet with tears. "Hold on to the feelin'. Streetlights, people."

Mercedes manages to grab onto Tina, who connects with Artie. The bespectacled boy manages to link his hand loosely with Mike's. It's the Asian whose hand finally finds Puck's to link them all together.

"Don't stop believin'," they sing in unison. "Hold on to the feelin.' Streetlights, people."

There is a beat of silence after they end the song.

"Man, I never get tired of that song," Artie says into the darkness.

"Yeah, everyone loves it," Mercedes agreed.

"But not like us," Puck answers back.

He hears Rachel take a shuddering breath. "Noah is right. That song is definitely very special to all of us."


	10. The Swing

One minute, she's totting across the yard on her short, chubby little legs and the next, she's sitting firmly on her butt with tears in her hazel eyes. Puck rushed across the yard and lifted her up, staring into the gaze that looks so much like his own.

"You okay, baby?" he murmured softly to Beth, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her blonde curls. The blonde was all Quinn but the curls were his. The little girl nodded through her tears but buried her face in the curve of his neck nonetheless. He inhaled deeply and silently thanked God once again for Shelby letting him have days like this with his daughter. "I think Burt found a swing for you. Why don't we try that for a while?"

It was the first really nice day of summer, that period in early June where Ohio was warm enough for swimming but not so hot that you could fry an egg on the side walk at 9 AM. The Hummels were throwing a family barbecue with Blaine, Puck and Beth as their only guests. Rachel was out of town with her fathers on one of their infamous gay family cruises and Quinn had left the week before to start her internship at some tiny paper in Denver. Puck was actually kind of glad to have this time with Beth to himself. He had really missed his little girl.

"Papa Burt, come push!" Beth called across the yard. She had been confused about who the kind man was to her at first but had decided that he would be called papa just like Shelby's father was. The man looked up from the grill and grinned, happily handing the spatula over to his wife to come toward the pleading girl. "Yay, Daddy! Papa Burt is gonna push."

It was hard to believe that she was already three. Burt finally reached them and not-so-subtly pushed Puck out of the way. "I got her for a bit," he announced as he gave the back of the old wooden swing a push. "You go take a load off before Kurt and Blaine get here. I'm sure that it'll be impossible to get a minute of peace once my son starts talking about the wedding again."

Puck laughed and nodded before crossing the yard to sit next to Carole at the patio table. The older woman was smiling fondly at her husband pushing Beth. "He must have been in the shed for a half hour digging that old thing up this morning," she laughed as Beth giggled happily, blonde hair trailing behind her in the air. "It's been awhile since we had any kids around. It's nice having her here."

"Yeah, it is pretty great, isn't it?" he asked happily. He exchanged a content smile with Carole before looking back at his daughter. "Hey, Mom, where did that swing come from? It looks really familiar."

"It should, Noah, it used to hang in the backyard at the old house," she reminded him with a forlorn look. He saw the flash of something familiar in her eyes when he realized what she meant. "Christopher made it for Finn when I found out I was pregnant. He never did get to put it up, though. I had to do it myself when Finn was old enough, but I swear, I spent hours pushing him in that thing."

"Finn always did love to swing," Puck remembered. They used to jump out of them like superheroes when they were kids. Puck always wanted to be Batman, which made Finn his Robin by default. Finn never minded though, just content to be the sidekick to his best friend. Sometimes, on special occasions like Finn's birthday or when Gracie Harper kicked the taller boy really hard, Puck let him be the one who led. Shaking his head a little, he looked back at the old swing. "It's help up pretty well."

Carole nodded before snapping a quick photo on her phone. "Nothing a coat of paint wouldn't fix," she decided. "You should take it with you, fix it up a little and hang it when you get settled at the new place. I'm sure Burt would lend you a ladder."

"Or maybe you guys could come by to help me hang it," he offered. "Ma and Sarah are going to come over to help paint the living room next weekend. I could throw together some lunch, and you guys could bring Kurt and Blaine. I'm sure Kurt will have some strong opinions about my decorating abilities."

He had just signed the lease on a tiny little two-bedroom house just off campus. It had just five rooms and the smallest backyard with a pair of tall oak trees, but Puck was really glad it was going to be his home for the next year. He had thought about leaving Lima, but with Shelby coming back to teach at McKinley again, he wanted to be near Beth. They had even talked about him keeping her overnight once a week, and he wanted the spare bedroom to be ready for her if that happened.

"I'm sure the boys would love that," Carole said finally. They both turned when they heard the gate rattle. Blaine and Kurt came strolling through the yard, arms full of cupcakes from the bakery downtown and enough buns to feed an army. "Wouldn't you, boys?"

"Sure, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine replied automatically while Kurt offered up a distracted, "Huh?"

"Noah here was just asking for our help getting the house together. He thought you might have some opinions on what he should do to decorate, Kurt," Carole replied. "And Blaine, seriously, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Carole?"

Kurt's eyes lit up. "I have the perfect Pintrest Board for this!"

"Oh, God," Blaine muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as Kurt excitedly tapped away on his iPhone. "Thanks, I just talked him down from wanting to redesign my entire wardrobe for New York."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at his fiancé just as a certain little girl hollered across the yard. "Kurty!"

"Princess Beth," Kurt called back, handing his phone off to Blaine so he could go retrieve the little girl. They had spent a little time together since Kurt happened to stop by to check on Puck at least once every few days now that he was home for the summer. The bond had been instantaneous, and Shelby swore that he was now her favorite person after Shelby and Puck. "Are you swinging with Papa Burt?"

"He pushes me way higher than Daddy will," she said in a not-so-quiet whisper. Puck chuckled as Kurt lifted her from the seat and tickled her sides playfully. "Mama Quinn says that Daddy is too protective, but he says that he just wants to make sure that I'm always okay."

"That's right," Puck confirmed as he leaned across Blaine to ruffle his daughter's curls. "Now who's ready to eat? I'm starved."

An hour later, Kurt and Blaine are huddled over a navy blue binder with Carole, deep in the midst of wedding plans. Burt had disappeared inside to watch the Indians game, and Beth was curled up in Puck's lap while they talked quietly in the far corner of the yard.

"Daddy, I have a question."

"What's that, baby?"

She curled her fingers into the soft material of his worn tee. "When is Uncle Finny coming home?"

Beth still remembered Finn in bits and pieces, and Puck dreaded the day that those memories would fade away. She had always loved the tall oaf, how he would get down on the floor to play with her and laugh at the cartoons like she did and call her Drizzle. He had been really great with her when she'd come to see Puck at the dorms. Somewhere, still hidden away, he had a picture of the three of them playing with a red rubber ball on the Quad.

"Baby, remember how I told you that Uncle Finn was in heaven?" he asked her. She nodded seriously. Puck was Jewish and had a more complex view on the whole heaven thing. But Beth was three and the thought of the traditional heaven was admittedly quite comforting. "Well, that means he's an angel. He's not going to be able to come back and play with you like he used to. But he's always going to be there, watching over you and protecting you, even if you can't see him."

"Like Nana Connie?" she asked quietly, referring to the great-grandmother that Puck always told her about. "Well, I guess that is better than him going away and never coming back. That's what happened to Mrs. Howard's cat, Boots. A car hit him." She looked at him for a minute and then leaned up to whisper in his ear. "I miss Uncle Finny, Daddy."

"I know, baby, me too," he told her gently, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. She wrapped her little arms around him and hugged him tightly, probably feeling how sad he suddenly was. "But Uncle Finny wouldn't want us to be sad, okay? He'd want us to laugh and play and have fun. Papa Burt is going to come over and hang that swing up in the tree at Daddy's house next weekend. Did you know it belonged to Uncle Finn when he was a little guy just like you? Every time you swing in it, you can think about him and how much we all miss him."

She cocked her head to the side for a minute before nodding resolutely. "Okay, Daddy," she declared before snuggling back up to him. "Lots of people loved Uncle Finny, didn't they, Daddy?"

Puck grinned down at her and mirrored her confident nod. "So many people, baby, but not like us."


	11. The Birthday

_Boom, boom, boom, brighter than the moon, moon, moon._

"Don't you ever get tired of that song?"

Rachel looked up from the scarf she was knitting in her lap toward her window sill. Puck had made it a habit to climb up there at all hours of night, almost with a regularity that she had come to expect. "Oh, Noah, Katy is a new classic," she tittered, shaking her head as if she knew he would never understand. "I would have thought your new friendship with Kurt would have taught you at least that."

Puck rubbed his hand anxiously over his beloved landing strip as he jumped down from the ledge. He closed the window behind him and gulped the cool air in greedily, happy to be free from the harsh July air. "I can name three musicals, know two ways to tie an ascot and have seen an entire episode of Gossip Girl on Netflix. I think that's enough exploration for one summer," he declared as he made his way over to his usual spot in her desk chair. "So what's up? Still knitting that ugly thing?"

"I have you know that my psychologist said that knitting can be very therapeutic," she told him haughtily. "And if it gives me a jumpstart on my Chanukah shopping then so be it! I think it's going to look absolutely stunning on Santana come December."

He shook his head a little as he looked at the yellow and green monstrosity. Rachel Berry did many things well, but knitting was not one of them. "So when do you head back to New York?"

She had been Lima since previews had wrapped up in May. They'd been given eight glorious weeks off, but her time in Ohio was starting to draw to an end. She honestly couldn't wait to get back to New York. As much as she loved her fathers and spending time with her old friends, she missed the hustle and bustle of the city. Besides, she hadn't stood beneath a spotlight other than the one at the temple in far too long.

"We go back into rehearsals on the 4th of August," she answered as she slid and then looped a needle through the thick yarn. "I am flying back on the first to get settled again. Dad and Daddy are going to come with me so we can catch a show. You're welcome to join them if you have the weekend off."

Puck shook his head as he fidgeted with a thread fraying at the end of his cargo shorts. "Nah, I have Beth and Q is supposed to come back to see her. We're going to do with something with Shelby," he told her. "But we should do something before then, maybe next week? You know, with the day coming up and all, I don't want to…"

Rachel nodded. It was one of the days she had been dreading for a while. The first year was marked with them, those firsts without him. They'd gotten through the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas and the first Valentine's Day without him. She'd seen their significant anniversaries come and go. But it was this one, his birthday, that she had been trying so desperately to forget. Finn had always made a really big deal about his birthday, and she hadn't even been with him when he'd turned 19. She had no idea it would be his last.

"We could invite the others."

"Nah," he said dismissively. "I think this one should be just us."

"They'll remember too, Noah, we're not the only ones who miss him."

He shrugged selfishly. He really didn't care what anyone else did. "Look, I talked to Burt, and he's going to take Mom and Kurt to DC with him. I think Blaine's going to go too. He asked me if I wanted to come so the whole family could be together," his voice trailed off. "I just thought, I don't know, I want to spend it with you."

Rachel dropped her knitting project onto the comforter beside her. "I'm sorry, Noah, of course we should do something together. What did you have in mind?"

"We always had this tradition," he started before stopping. She wouldn't understand exactly, no one would, but he wanted to keep it going. A lot of things had died with Finn, but this didn't have to be one of them. "We'd camp out under the stars and stay up all night, just talking and gorging on junk food. We did it every year except last summer when he was at basic."

"Every year?" she asked with a wrinkled forehead. "I spent two birthdays as Finn's girlfriend and he never mentioned it."

"We always got together after he dropped you off," he admitted. "We never really told anyone other than Ma and Mom. We didn't even plan it. We just both knew when to show up and where. He'd bring the tent, I'd grab some food and we'd end up at the same place around the same time. I wasn't sure he was going to come the summer after Beth, but I went just in case. That was the first really good talk we'd had in six months."

Puck didn't tell Rachel about how he had gone there last summer on the off chance that Finn somehow managed to get a weekend off. He hadn't really expected his best friend to show up, but he had still felt a little disappointed when he didn't come. He was surprised with a phone call at exactly that time, and he had gotten fifteen precious moments talking about absolutely nothing with Finn. "I just needed to make sure someone went to the spot, dude," Finn had said just before he had to go. Puck had laughed when he hung up. The whole accident thing with the gun happened the next week, and they ended up camping three weeks after the failed soldier came home.

So Rachel and Puck made plans to show up at the same place (the clearing in the woods right behind Puck's house) at the same time (two minutes after midnight) so they could celebrate Finn's birthday together. He borrowed Finn's old tent from Carole and picked up some snacks from 7-11 and even packed away a deck of cards so they'd have something to do. Rachel brought iced tea for the hot July night in her dad's old thermos and a little portable speaker so they'd have some music.

"I can see why you guys would like it out here," she said as she drew her knees up to her chin and huddled by the small fire Puck had managed to smart. "It's beautiful; you can see the stars for miles. I wonder if I could find my star." She gazed up at the sky for a long minute. "It'd probably help if I had that chart but it's in New York."

Puck never talked about stars with Finn. They mostly talked about sports and video games and girls. Sometimes they talked about more serious stuff, like their families and the future, but it was mostly the conversations of two typical boys. He poured another cup of tea into Finn's coffee cup. They also usually drank beer.

"You don't seem so sad tonight."

Puck looked up, startled. "Huh?"

"You're thinking about him and you don't look sad," she explained. "You actually seem happy. It looks good on you."

He fingered the porcelain mug in his hand. "I was just thinking about all the good times Finn and I had out here," he replied. "Trust me, there were a lot of them."

"It seems like a great place to bring a family. There are probably a lot of people who had fun here over the years."

"Not like us, Berry," Puck laughed as he turned his gaze heavenward, taking in the vast expanse of stars overhead. The universe seemed limitless. "Trust me, not like us."


	12. The Song

August brought the end of summer and the beginning of another school year. Puck was glad to be back in the schedule of classes and studying, taking the occasional break when he had Beth or worked a shift at the bar that he'd found a few blocks from his house or went over to the Hummels' for dinner. Rachel was tearing up Broadway once again, Santana had landed another national commercial in New York, Quinn was back kicking ass at Yale and Kurt and Blaine were almost finished planning their fall nuptials. Life had slowly but surely moved on, but Puck still drank his morning coffee out of that same old mug.

He had been surprised when he had gotten the phone call. Puck hadn't spoken to his old choir director since a month after the funeral. He'd never been particularly close to Schue, not like Finn and the others, but the guy had been pretty understanding with Puck when he'd messed up back in high school. So he figured he owed it to the man to show up when he requested his presence on an early Saturday morning. It was pretty much the least he could do.

"Good morning, Puck, please come in," Mr. Schuester (_Will_, he insisted) announced as he showed him into the small but cozy living room. "Emma is sorry that she missed you. She's visiting her parents this weekend before she gets too far along to fly. She sends her regards."

"Tell Miss P, I mean Mrs. S, that I said hello," he smiled, thinking fondly of the petite redhead. "Anyways, not to be rude, but what's up?"

Will shook his head and laughed. "Always did like to get right to the point, didn't you?" he said as he reached down beneath the sofa and pulled something out. It was a worn leather book that Puck recognized well. It had belonged to him first and then to Finn. Puck had given it to him the night they'd written 'Pretending' before nationals. Well, Puck had written the song and Finn had learned it well enough so he could claim it as his own. Puck had told his best friend to keep it as a memento of the whole debacle.

"How did you…I haven't seen that for a couple years," Puck said, covering his mouth with one hand while taking the book with the other. There were at least a dozen unfinished songs in there along with a good twenty that he'd already done. He flipped to 'Pretending' and inspected the hasty notation on the staffs. It hadn't been his best work but it had done the trick. "You mean, you knew?"

Will grinned. Of course he had; Finn couldn't have written a song to save his life. He was really great at so many things but putting words to music wasn't one of them. Will had known it was all Noah Puckerman the first time Finn had sang it. It had him written all over it.

"Why did you let him take credit for it?"

"Finn really needed a win. A loser me knows that feeling better than anyone," he shrugged. It had never occurred to him to stake a claim in the song. It wasn't about Puck, the words meant nothing to him. It was all Rachel and Finn in those lyrics. The notes, though, that had been about giving something to only Finn. "I owed him…well, everything actually, but he was my best friend and he let me repay him with a stupid song."

"It was a _really_ great song."

"Nah, it's the performance that made it special," Puck argued knowingly. "Finn did that, you know? He made things special just by being there. I should know. I can't even imagine who I would have been if I hadn't been his best friend. Hell, I'm still trying to figure it out now."

Will clapped the boy on the shoulder. "You'd be you."

He shook his head. Puck would still be parts of himself without Finn, but the good stuff – all the positive parts he didn't credit to Beth – that was all his best friend. "I'm pretty happy with just being his best friend," he decided. He looked down at the song and knew that he was going to frame it for Rachel. It still didn't belong to him, and he didn't want it to. It was theirs. "There are other songs in here that I could finish though. Maybe use the studio at the college to lay them down, put some sound to the words."

"I'd be happy to help if you ever need an unskilled sound engineer."

"Thanks," Puck said as he stood up, tucking the notebook beneath his arm. "And not just for this but for everything. You helped Finn figure out what he wanted to be. He was kind of lost before that last year, but you helped him get back on track. Without that, who knows where I would have ended up? I followed after him just like I always did, and I think it got me to a pretty decent place so far. So, yeah, thanks from both of us. Finn'd want you to know he appreciates it."

Puck didn't say anything else before he left the house. He just took the notebook back to his old dusty truck and started to drive on a road that would eventually take him somewhere. He'd steal a glance across the seat at the notebook every once in a while, thinking about all the words and notes and treasures hidden inside the worn cover. He could hear this string of words repeating over and over in his head, just like they had been for months now. He hadn't been sure where the muses had wanted to take him for awhile now,

Three hours later, Puck found himself pulled over on the side of the road, writing furiously against the steering wheel as the words continued to come. That hot day in August was the day that all these words in his head, something he called "Not Like Us," became a song.


	13. The Quarterback

Puck unfolded the piece of paper he had folded and unfolded and refolded and folded again and took his place behind the podium.

"A year ago, the worst thing I could have imagined happened. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who felt like that. I couldn't have been, not when we're talking about a guy like Finn Hudson," Puck said, looking down at the packed crowd. The late September air was crisp, the bright lights of the football stadium beaming at full blast. "But the thing that made it different for me was that Finn was my best friend. He wasn't just some guy I used to know or had loved once before it got complicated. Day in and day out, for as long as either of us had known, I had lived my life in tandem with him."

Puck fingered the edges of the paper nervously. "Anyone who knows me knows that I am not really one for words. In fact, when they first asked me to say something tonight, I pretty much refused. But then Mom – Finn's mom, Carole – she asked me again. My ma always said I listened to Carole better than I did her, so I guess there was really no way I could refuse, you know?" he said, pausing as people laughed along with him. "I thought that there had to be someone better to say something about him. I mean, his father is a politician. You all know Senator Burt Hummel, he has a way with words. Surely he would have been better fit than someone like me."

Puck met Burt's eyes and shared a grin with him. "Burt loved Finn and Finn loved Burt. They didn't have to but they did. They were family almost right from the start. I used to be kind of jealous of that until Finn brought me over one night for dinner, and the man also took me under his wing. We both got a father when Burt married Mom. I don't think I've told him thank you enough for that."

His eyes moved down the line to a familiar young man with a fair complexion. "And we also got a brother, a really great one too," Puck said as he locked eyes with Kurt. There were little tears forming in his blue eyes. "Kurt and Finn had a special bond, one that meant my very manly best friend learned to waltz to a Bruno Mars song just to make him smile. I know the feeling because I would do it too now, especially after the support Kurt has given me this year. I don't think I could have made it without another brother to have my back like Finn did. I can't wait to be the best man at his wedding next month. If it couldn't be Finn, I'm really glad it's me that gets to step in."

"Burt wasn't the first father that Finn had, of course," Puck reminded them. "Christopher Hudson died before Finn was born, and he was always a hero in our eyes. We didn't really get one again until sophomore year of high school when Finn was singing one of those stupid 80s songs he loved in the locker room. Will Schuester heard him singing and convinced him to join his dumb glee club. Finn loved it right away, and me being me, I decided to eventually follow him. Will became like a father, a mentor to Finn, to us both. I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't joined glee but I know that my life wouldn't be the same as it is now. I wouldn't have known all these really great people, people like Will Schuester."

Puck faltered a little as the tears threatened to fall. "And our friends, God, our friends," he laughed. "Finn was the glue that held all of us together. He loved the people he knew during his years here. He had something special with each of us. He understood why Brittany liked to feed the ducks at the park and laughed with Tina and could talk about 'Avatar' with Artie and Sam for hours. He learned to dance from Mike, or as close as he could get anyways, and liked to tease Kurt mercilessly with Blaine and Mercedes when they'd all be over at the Hummels' house. He even made Santana cry, _in the good way_, once, something I swear that no one else has ever done. He loved all of you, and the only thing that made any of this even close to okay was that you loved him just as much."

"Then, there was Quinn," he declared, slowly shifting his gaze away from Santana to the blonde. "Q was the first person who ever held Finn's heart, and we all know how that ended up. But Finn forgave us, both of us, and loved us even more afterward. He once told me that she was like fireworks. There was a big part of Finn's heart reserved just for Quinn Fabray. Nothing anyone could say – or that she did – ever changed that."

"That leaves us with Rachel Berry, the golden star that captivated him from the very first moment with just a simple song," Puck smiled. Rachel had her arm wrapped around Quinn's, tears flowing freely from her dark eyes. "We all know what she meant to Finn. Words could never say enough about the way he loved her; I'll only say it was unconditionally, all-encompassing, completely. Rach has been there right beside over the past twelve months. There were moments when I couldn't decide who was taking it harder. But she's been strong and resilient and now she's living out her dreams in New York. I know that Finn is with her for every curtain call."

Puck was crying unabashedly at this point. The tears were destined to fall. "Finally, there is Mom." He stopped and looked down at Carole. Burt was clutching her hand but Puck had all of her attention. "You were the center of Finn's entire world. Everything he did was about making you proud. You had to be a mother and a father for most of his life, a parent and a friend. You were that for both of us, along with my ma, far too much to two young boys that you should have to be. You never complained. You just loved your son, loved us both, without another question asked. I know you know how much Finn loved you, and I hope you know how much I love you too. You, more than anyone, have gotten me through this past year and so many before it. I love you, Mom."

He reached up to swipe away the tears with his knuckles. "Finn Hudson was not just a leader on the football field or in the classroom. He was a leader with his family and his friends. He was the ultimate wingman, my quarterback, forever throwing something out there so I knew where to go," Puck finished up, folding the paper and shoving it back into his pocket so that he could stare out at the people below. "He is still my best friend in the entire world, no past tense, my absolutely best friend. And tonight, I am so proud to dedicate the Finn Hudson Memorial Stadium in his honor."

He reached over and snipped the red satin ribbon. "People will remember him for many years to come but not like us. " He looked over at the crowd and pumped his fist. "Now let's play some football!"

_**FIN(N).**_


End file.
